Beyond Neverland
by LittlePorcelainDoll
Summary: As the cheerful start up music kicks in and she jumps into her kart before the starting line, this is the first time Vanellope truly feels her age. She's always loved being a kid, but now it suddenly feels unfair that growing up would be denied of her simply because of the theme of her game. - One sided crush Vanellope/Ralph


**Title:** Beyond Neverland  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, see profile for further details.  
**Rating:** T  
**Warning(s):** A bit suggestive, sorry. Habits die hard.  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s):** One sided crush Vanellope/Ralph  
**Setting:** Eh... several years after the end of the movie.  
**Notes:** Hey so, first time writing in this fandom, but I had this random idea in my head for a one-shot (or depending how much effort I care to put into this, a series of drabbles) that wouldn't go away. Love it, flame it, I don't mind. Enjoy.

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The screen flashes as quarters drop into the coin slot and Vanellope smiles brightly when the player turns the wheel over her avatar.

In the menu countdown before the race, these are the only few moments she has to see the player. This time, it's a man in his twenties, she guesses. Nothing particularly off about that since the arcade does attract some older gamers, but it's his hat that catches her attention. Vanellope _knows_ him, she realizes. He used to be an old regular here in the arcade and always picked her. He hugs the curves tightly and he's a bit stingy with the power-ups, but he's a good driver. He's never come in less than third place and signs his high scores as DART.

In the last few seconds before the avatar selection screen shifts to the race track venue, she marvels at how much he's grown. The hat used to sit past his ears, eyes shadowed under the brim. Now, it sits snugly over a mess of curly hair. It's worn now; stained and scuffed, but the button pins on the bill and the bold D20 embroidered on the crown are the same. It's DART for sure, almost too tall to sit comfortably in the driver's seat but still risking looking silly to play an old favorite.

As the cheerful start up music kicks in and she jumps into her kart before the starting line, this is the first time Vanellope truly feels her age.

She should be almost as old as her player by now and for some unexplainable reason, that sudden realization gives her an uncomfortable sinking feeling in her code, like she's swallowed a jawbreaker whole and it sits heavy in her stomach. She's glad her player was behind the wheel or else she would've skidded and crashed through the race.

Later, when the arcade closes and demo screens dimly illuminate the room, Vanellope tries to push the thought to the back of her mind. Ralph's promised to come over and she's made him something special she's sure he'll like. She's running late and rushes back to the castle to pick up the basket with his surprise before she's off again, racing down the chocolate dusted roads to their usual meeting spot.

Vanellope's skips slow down into a halting tip-toe and she bites back a snicker when she finds Ralph lounging under the shade of a sour twisted lollipop, arms behind his head, legs crossed and eyes closed. He apparently had fallen asleep while waiting on her, poor guy. Quietly, she sets the basket down at her feet and eyes him critically. Why is there never any whipped cream when you need to prank someone badly? A fat dollop in his hand, a poke at his face and – _bam_! Perfect wake up call. Sadly, she needs to improvise and pinches his nose shut instead.

"Wake uuuup ya big ding-dong," Vanellope sings and his brows knit together briefly before he sputters comically awake.

"Ya little brat," he chuckles sleepily as she bursts into laughter and doesn't have a chance to dance away fast enough when his hand closes around her, tossing her up into the air and catching her again for a brief hug. She lives for these moments. Other than racing, nothing else makes her happier than sitting on his shoulder, high above the world. "How'd your day go, kiddo?"

_Kiddo._

And with that one simple word, that heavy feeling is back in the pit of her stomach. Ralph has an unintentional way of making her feel small being how he dwarfs most everyone, but this is a different kind of small. He's always called her kid, but it's never bothered her so much as it does now. By rights, she should be nearly twenty years old going by the year her game was first plugged into the arcade. Older, if she counts her coded age. She thinks of the young freckled and pimply teen now a grown man and how she's stuck in time and something in her chest breaks.

Something must have shown on her face because Ralph sits up straighter and sets her down at his side. "Hey, somethin' up?"

"It's uh..." Vanellope knots her fingers in her lap, unsure how to explain. She's never put so much thought into something like this and talking about it isn't as simple as it feels. "It's... do you ever feel old?"

"I'm _retro,_ not old," Ralph smirks and runs a hand through his hair as if he's pleased with himself for finally catching up to the term. "I'm tellin' ya, the gamers still can't get enough of me nowadays."

"No, not that," she plucks at her leggings impatiently. "Old _old, _like..." Vanellope gives her head a little shake. "Nah, doesn't matter."

"Vanellope –" He begins to say, but she waves it off. He's not getting it and she doesn't feel like saying it out loud because that would make it real. Instead, she dashes off towards the neglected basket and she's grateful he doesn't push the subject.

"So, I know how chocolate isn't your thing," she sits down the basket between them ceremoniously, glad to be moving onto something familiar and comfortable. This is how it should be; spending time with her friend and away from her confusing thoughts. "And I thought, pfft – who _doesn't_ like chocolate, amiright?"

Ralph snorts. "Says the girl who lives in the cavity center of the arcade."

"Only weirdos and nose-pickers, that's who," Vanellope continues as if she hadn't heard him. "Anyway, so I was thinking that maybe you haven't found the _right_ chocolate and –"

"Whoa there, I'm not gonna be your guinea pig," Ralph deadpans and eyes the basket warily. "Look, I get it. Not liking it is weird 'cause you're surrounded by the stuff every day. Heck, even your subjects are candy. Never figured that one out. Do they eat _each other_ or...?"

"Tut-tut, this is about _you_," she chides playfully. "It has nothing to do with my game at _all_. In fact, I just so happen to hate saltwater taffy. Yep, I admit it. _But_ – I don't act like a big baby and never give any a taste. I try every kind, hoping to find the perfect flavor. It is my _quest_." She adds dramatically and Ralph rolls his eyes. "And now, so is searching for the perfect chocolate for you."

She gets it though, his dislike of chocolate. After spending so many of the worst years of his life frog splashing face first into mud, it's hard to look at chocolate and feel differently about it. Vanellope knows something about wiping away the smear of dirt on her face and so she can relate. It's what brought both of them together in a small way; the first time she shook his hand and called him friend all those years ago. Now, she can help him truly appreciate it, born out of their friendship again.

"Not gonna have a say in this, am I?" He says, but she can tell by his slow lopsided smile that he doesn't mind at all.

"Nnnope!" She grins and pulls out a bundle from the basket. "You'll thank me later."

"Alright, what's my poison?" Ralph smirks and she knows he would have said yes regardless and all his protests were just to humor her. She always gets what she wants, they know each other too well to pretend otherwise.

"Nothing special…" she unwraps the bundle carefully to reveal a few sweets "... just one of my many, many, _many_ favorite recipes ever! Dark hazelnut chocolate ganache bites!"

Ralph is unimpressed, starring down at the sweets cynically. "_Gone-nash_?"

"Gah-" she starts to correct until she realizes he's stalling. "Oh, just try it you wuss."

"No way. This is _your_ quest, remember?" Ralph chuckles and his smile grows wider still. "You're gonna have to feed it to me."

Blue binary flickers over her as pinch of heat floods her cheeks. Occasionally, she's seen Calhoun and Felix feed each other morsels of fruit or sweets, the latter usually blushing and smothering a giggle to some hidden joke she wasn't privy to. It looks like such an intimate thing... but whatever it is, that can't be what Ralph is implying. Yeah, that's right. Vanellope always gets what she wants, but Ralph never makes it easy. This is no different.

"Fine, open up."

Before she can change her mind, she picks up one of the sweets and impatiently mentions for him to lean closer. He does so without complaint and his lips part enough to slip it through. As she does so, her thumb accidentally brushes against his lower lip and her stomach feels full of pop rocks, jolting in a way she can't be certain is entirely unpleasant. It feels like revving up the engine before the start of a race, a mixture of nerves and excitement and a blur of a thousand different colors when she hits the gas; all indistinct but beautiful.

Then he closes his mouth around the chocolate, fingers and all, and she feels the quickest flick of hot tongue across her fingertips before she snatches her hand back, mortified and glitching like mad.

"_Ewww_!" She shrieks and he can hardly chew for laughing. "Th-that's not funny, Ralph! You got your hobo stink breath on me!"

Unsure with what to do with the tingly mess that is her fingers, she wipes her hand on his shirt to make it stop. Ralph nearly chokes with laughter and she's not exactly angry at him, not really, only that she's doesn't know where to hide her face. Everything feels hot and too tight and she doesn't know what to do with her hand so she stuffs it deep into the pocket of her hoodie to keep it out of mind.

"Couldn't help my – mmm. It's um..." he somehow manages to say as he sobers, chewing carefully. Whatever else he says is mumbled and lost to an awkward cough but she thinks he might have said 'bitter'.

"Didn't hear ya, what?" Vanellope prompts.

"I said better! _The_ best." Ralph finds his voice finally and clears his throat. "Good job Cookin' Mama, you've helped me see the light. I've changed."

Vanellope tsks disapprovingly; he's still an awful liar. An endearing quality, but not right now. "I should have you smothered in honey and left out for the sugar ants, Ralphie. C'mon, admit it, you hate it."

"I don't _hate_ it... but yeah. I don't like it," Ralph gives her an apologetic look and her eyes are drawn to a small smear of chocolate on the edge of his lip. It irks her somehow and she has the sudden urge to simply thumb it off, but she doesn't. They've always been comfortable enough in their friendship to share minor touches without a problem, but now all she can think of are the tingly tips of her fingers stuffed in her pocket.

She tears her eyes away from him and looks down at the sweets instead, only three left. "Welp, there's always next time I guess," Vanellope sighs and picks one of the remaining chocolates, she'll have to finish the rest. She didn't expect to get his chocolate right on the first try so she wasn't completely disappointed. "Don't think I'll let you off this easy."

"As you command, princess."

"_President_!" She corrects sharply and pops the chocolate into her mouth with a laugh.

The moment the nutty flavor starts to melt away sweetly, Vanellope's smile fades and she's left with the bitter realization that she'll always associate the taste of chocolate with the feeling of his tongue on her fingers...

… and that she only has two left.

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**A/N:** Hey, thanks for sticking around to make it down this far. Dunno if I'll continue writing some more since I have this sorta half-formed idea floating around so it's all up to you, dear reader. Lemme know what you think!


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